


Wanted

by bombcollar



Category: Bugsnax (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Grumpuses are monotremes and lay eggs, Implied/Referenced Abuse, POV Second Person, Parenthood, Post-Canon, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bombcollar/pseuds/bombcollar
Summary: Gramble thinks about parenthood, and the future.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Wanted

Eggshell smooth and warmed by your body heat, speckled with your fur color and another. A stranger’s. You lie awake and feel their tiny heartbeat flutter against your paws. You hear them squeaking at you sometimes, so eager to come out, so ready to meet you, but are you ready?

_Outside your childhood bedroom the house is silent, empty, muffled whining of cicadas in the summer heat. Calling, calling out for somebody. Anybody._

You saw things lurking in the darkness, sickening mockeries of your form. You heard the wet scuttling of insects with no thought beyond **feed, feed, feed** , your lungs filled with sweet, acrid smoke as the ground lurched and seized below your feet. But you have never been more afraid than you are right now.

_You cannot be what they wanted you to be, but at least you can be silent. You can be overlooked. And that is better than being noticed._

Does their poison linger in your blood? Will you crawl out of your cocoon and become something ugly? Love putrefying into resentment like wine into vinegar. How will you know if it’s happening? How will you know how to stop it?

_You cannot fix something that was broken from the start. It was never fair of them to ask. But you’re sorry anyway._

Why do you want this? Is it the same reason you searched for love in the cold, dead eyes of a parasite? Do you just want something to need you? How selfish. How despicable. What makes you any different from them?

No, no. That isn’t fair. You squash that thought beneath your heel. This is something you’ve been learning to do. You’re not good at it so far, but you’re getting better.

Why do you want this? Why does anybody? Why wouldn’t anybody want to nurture, to teach, to love and to be loved in return? To make damn sure that someone would carry your love with them and share it with others, and make the world a kinder place.

Whatever reason your parents wanted you for, if you were wanted at all, it’s not the same. It’s not. You want this. You want this more than anything else in the world, enough to go it alone. Enough to lie to the nurses at the clinic. You want it so much it makes your bones ache.

All you can do is your best. Your child deserves no less than that. Whoever they are, this little flicker of life in your hands. You love them so much already, and you know everyone else will too. If you need to reach out, you know there will be helping paws waiting for you. Your doubts may resurface, like so many insects emerging from the soil, but just like on the island, you’ll beat them back, again and again.

You nestle the egg against the fur of your chest, heartbeat to heartbeat. Just a little longer now.

Your house will never stand empty. In the summer heat, in the freezing rain, there will always be somebody there to welcome them home.


End file.
